To link to the entire object, paste this link in email, IM or documentTo embed the entire object, paste this HTML in websiteTo link to this page, paste this link in email, IM or documentTo embed this page, paste this HTML in website

THE PERISCOPE
Vol. V.
Northfield, Minn., Friday, December 20, 1929
No. 7
Mr. Herr Believes in Santa Claus
Ok
Cbmttna
At last the city of Cologne was filled
to its depths with dutiful pride; at last
the final spire showed completion. After generations of toil, waiting, and
struggling, the massive buttresses,
graceful in their gray beauty, stood
like symphonies of stone over a city of
happy, soulful people. Christmas had
already sent its first greetings, and
soon the populace would ask God to
bless their cathedral and all that
stood therein.
The days sped onward with an unaccountable fury of determination.
Christmas eve day came, white and
crisp. Twilight settled early in the
winter day, %and in the homes,
fathered and fatherless alike offered
the evening prayer to Heaven. The
children asked about angels and the
Christus. Afterwards all gathered to
hear the music of the towers.
Meanwhile, without the city a hungry horde crouched in the icy woodlands—naked and eating raw meat of
the wild wolves. The wild tribes were
at hand! Men, fierce, savage, strong
as the back of Hercules, men, howling
in savage sin, children of the winter
storms—these waited the darkness.
This same shadow fell, and in the
joy of the evening every city gate was
opened wide. Yawning welcomes in
the very walls of Cologne brought on
the ravages of the wilderness. With
their bodies steaming in the cold
night, the tribesmen poured into the
city. God's bells rang the message of
the angels in the spires next to Heaven, calling forth mad maniacs of
noise whose only emotion was to kill
and sip blood.
Never stopping on the way to the
holy church, the fleeting murderers
ran. There, beneath the altar, God's
prelate, remembering other Christmas
eves in the wintry woodland, stood in
fatherly instruction; silence lay in the
hearts of His people like a golden
staff of comfort. Then, without warning, the candles flickered on the Holy
Place; wild mejn entered bearing
knives and spears. A cry arose, "O,
Father, Father, save us! Holy Child
of Christmas. Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!"
All bent backward; eyes turned to
he entrance. The crowd surged toward the front an to the altar. The
eyes of the aged priest were filled
with tears as he saw his people murdered so unmercifully. He raised his
arms to Heaven in a silent prayer.
Suddenly the chiesftain cried an order.
The grizzled warrior saw that face as
he had seen it onee before—once long
ago in the depths of the great forest.
Others of the tribesmen saw that
face also. They stood still, then they
also fell on their knees before the
priest.
. The dust cleared away, and, out of
the chaos came the sound of prayers
again; all faces sought the sky above.
Three crystal notes were sounded by
the chimes. The light of the candles
gleamed on the Shattered altar window; and His presence showed the
Christmas cave of Bethlehem with infant Jesu in the mended window.
D. W. '30.
Letters to Santa
Dere Santee Claaz,
We hev allers wanted to tell u jest
what we want for Chrismass of corse
we hev allways riten u letters but
they couldunt of got to u becaas our
fokes never fond wat we hed axed fer
in the fier plase. Aneway now we are
sur ull get our leters becas it is going
to be publised in the Periscope (of
corse u rede that—aneway I reem-
ber yore sussripshun)
to begin with Marian Rankin nedes
a change of attenshun. Madison Hunt
wants a new kidee car and eloise
Shepart jest cant git along anymor
without she has som toy baloons. Also
som strange thing tels us that Fritz
is turble hot down in Florida—a little
snow and a pare of ice scates wood
be nise fer him. Emanual says to be
sure and not fergit his big brothers
and sister and if it is not to much
that he wode like a red ball for him
and his dog to play with. It is rumer-
ed that Junior Sampson is wishing
vainly for a rattle. (Vainly because
his mother says hes not old enough
yet—maybe he wil ack more lik it if
yu giv him one.) Helen Thompson
(Continued on page 2)
Superintendent Approves Spirit of
Generosity Taught Through
Belief in Santa Claus.
"When young I was taught to believe in Santa Claus, and I still do
even though it isn't the flesh-and-blood
Santa of my younger
days." There you have
the result of^a short inter-
?view a Periscope reporter
had with Mr. Herr on the
subject, "Do you or do you
not believe in Santa
Claus?"
He went on to discuss
the everlasting friendships
that are molded in our
childhood — friendships that grow
greater each year, reaching a distinct
climax on Christmas day, with the
beautiful and happy thought that your
humble, little gift is going to make
someone happier, to lighten the atmosphere around him, or to ease the
worries and cares of his waning years.
When Mr. Herr was asked whether
or not he still believed in teaching
that there was a Santa Claus, he said,
"In my experience with teachers I
have come across many who do not
approve of teaching these mythical
stories, but I see no harm in teaching
the child the virtues of giving more
than he receives.
"Christmas is not Christmas without its usual formalities. No matter
how old I get I like to see the Christmas tree all decorated and lighted,
with the stuffed stockings hanging
over the fireplace."
: ' ■
O, Santa comes but once a year,
But when he comes he brings good
cheer
Enough to last for many a day
And make us very happy and gay.
Santa Claus comes with his great big
pack
And if you're not good some toy
you'll lack;
So get your studies and do what's
right
And Santa will visit you Christmas
night.
At Christmas the snow is usually deep
But through this Santa's reindeer
will leap,
He will ride over hill, valley, and
moor
To deliver his presents to the rich
and poor. —R. F., 7th Grade.

THE PERISCOPE
Vol. V.
Northfield, Minn., Friday, December 20, 1929
No. 7
Mr. Herr Believes in Santa Claus
Ok
Cbmttna
At last the city of Cologne was filled
to its depths with dutiful pride; at last
the final spire showed completion. After generations of toil, waiting, and
struggling, the massive buttresses,
graceful in their gray beauty, stood
like symphonies of stone over a city of
happy, soulful people. Christmas had
already sent its first greetings, and
soon the populace would ask God to
bless their cathedral and all that
stood therein.
The days sped onward with an unaccountable fury of determination.
Christmas eve day came, white and
crisp. Twilight settled early in the
winter day, %and in the homes,
fathered and fatherless alike offered
the evening prayer to Heaven. The
children asked about angels and the
Christus. Afterwards all gathered to
hear the music of the towers.
Meanwhile, without the city a hungry horde crouched in the icy woodlands—naked and eating raw meat of
the wild wolves. The wild tribes were
at hand! Men, fierce, savage, strong
as the back of Hercules, men, howling
in savage sin, children of the winter
storms—these waited the darkness.
This same shadow fell, and in the
joy of the evening every city gate was
opened wide. Yawning welcomes in
the very walls of Cologne brought on
the ravages of the wilderness. With
their bodies steaming in the cold
night, the tribesmen poured into the
city. God's bells rang the message of
the angels in the spires next to Heaven, calling forth mad maniacs of
noise whose only emotion was to kill
and sip blood.
Never stopping on the way to the
holy church, the fleeting murderers
ran. There, beneath the altar, God's
prelate, remembering other Christmas
eves in the wintry woodland, stood in
fatherly instruction; silence lay in the
hearts of His people like a golden
staff of comfort. Then, without warning, the candles flickered on the Holy
Place; wild mejn entered bearing
knives and spears. A cry arose, "O,
Father, Father, save us! Holy Child
of Christmas. Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!"
All bent backward; eyes turned to
he entrance. The crowd surged toward the front an to the altar. The
eyes of the aged priest were filled
with tears as he saw his people murdered so unmercifully. He raised his
arms to Heaven in a silent prayer.
Suddenly the chiesftain cried an order.
The grizzled warrior saw that face as
he had seen it onee before—once long
ago in the depths of the great forest.
Others of the tribesmen saw that
face also. They stood still, then they
also fell on their knees before the
priest.
. The dust cleared away, and, out of
the chaos came the sound of prayers
again; all faces sought the sky above.
Three crystal notes were sounded by
the chimes. The light of the candles
gleamed on the Shattered altar window; and His presence showed the
Christmas cave of Bethlehem with infant Jesu in the mended window.
D. W. '30.
Letters to Santa
Dere Santee Claaz,
We hev allers wanted to tell u jest
what we want for Chrismass of corse
we hev allways riten u letters but
they couldunt of got to u becaas our
fokes never fond wat we hed axed fer
in the fier plase. Aneway now we are
sur ull get our leters becas it is going
to be publised in the Periscope (of
corse u rede that—aneway I reem-
ber yore sussripshun)
to begin with Marian Rankin nedes
a change of attenshun. Madison Hunt
wants a new kidee car and eloise
Shepart jest cant git along anymor
without she has som toy baloons. Also
som strange thing tels us that Fritz
is turble hot down in Florida—a little
snow and a pare of ice scates wood
be nise fer him. Emanual says to be
sure and not fergit his big brothers
and sister and if it is not to much
that he wode like a red ball for him
and his dog to play with. It is rumer-
ed that Junior Sampson is wishing
vainly for a rattle. (Vainly because
his mother says hes not old enough
yet—maybe he wil ack more lik it if
yu giv him one.) Helen Thompson
(Continued on page 2)
Superintendent Approves Spirit of
Generosity Taught Through
Belief in Santa Claus.
"When young I was taught to believe in Santa Claus, and I still do
even though it isn't the flesh-and-blood
Santa of my younger
days." There you have
the result of^a short inter-
?view a Periscope reporter
had with Mr. Herr on the
subject, "Do you or do you
not believe in Santa
Claus?"
He went on to discuss
the everlasting friendships
that are molded in our
childhood — friendships that grow
greater each year, reaching a distinct
climax on Christmas day, with the
beautiful and happy thought that your
humble, little gift is going to make
someone happier, to lighten the atmosphere around him, or to ease the
worries and cares of his waning years.
When Mr. Herr was asked whether
or not he still believed in teaching
that there was a Santa Claus, he said,
"In my experience with teachers I
have come across many who do not
approve of teaching these mythical
stories, but I see no harm in teaching
the child the virtues of giving more
than he receives.
"Christmas is not Christmas without its usual formalities. No matter
how old I get I like to see the Christmas tree all decorated and lighted,
with the stuffed stockings hanging
over the fireplace."
: ' ■
O, Santa comes but once a year,
But when he comes he brings good
cheer
Enough to last for many a day
And make us very happy and gay.
Santa Claus comes with his great big
pack
And if you're not good some toy
you'll lack;
So get your studies and do what's
right
And Santa will visit you Christmas
night.
At Christmas the snow is usually deep
But through this Santa's reindeer
will leap,
He will ride over hill, valley, and
moor
To deliver his presents to the rich
and poor. —R. F., 7th Grade.